


Cinders and Sparks

by Biyo



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: All They Need is a Little Real Talk, Drama, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Everyone is An Asshole But They Get Better, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-07-27 11:27:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7616302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biyo/pseuds/Biyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An exercise in building teamwork dynamics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Electric Youth

A morning that seemed to drag on, with not even the drone of monitors or the muffled clangs of metal on the outside of the pod able to drown out the monotony. Honestly, their usual training only seemed to make it that much worse. It was so routine at this point. Another 20 minutes from now and Keith would find himself back in the mess hall to be briefed on their team’s shortcomings for the day while given a bowl of food slop to choke down. And then his mind would wander to more pleasant thoughts as Allura’s voice slowly drifted away— the scent of the earth after the rain, humidity so thick that one could imagine swimming in it, the simulated fireplace crackling in the communal living area as a younger version of himself huddled around it for every bit of warmth.

Routine, schedule, boredom… All of it only made him miss the simple comforts of home, even if the home he used to know was anything but. It felt like Keith had been without basic comforts for so long. Thinking about his expulsion didn’t help. Hell, he could even admit he’d take those Garrison barracks over this right now. The leering eyes of classmates and scolding of teachers? What did that matter when it meant a warm meal and the soft space of his own room? A dorm— just like any normal kid would have. Keith wasn’t “normal” by any means, but living a life like a regular teen was better than slaving away in an alien spacecraft.

His Lion rumbled and growled with every movement, with every pound of weight that piled on top as the rest of his team tried to force what wasn’t going to happen. Boredom was turning into frustration at an alarming pace.

_I’m so sick of this… This is pointless…_

The telltale sound of something screaming below him and the foot of his Lion slipped on its support, claws scraping the paint with an earsplitting screech. Their makeshift tower— an attempt to merge the Beasts into Voltron— tumbled apart and Keith braced himself for a hard fall onto the Altean earth. The dust hadn’t even settled before the young man threw his controls back towards the direction of the castle. 

_“I’m done!”_

He didn’t know why he was so angry at everyone else in that moment. Honestly, their Jenga tower of failure was his fault just now. Still, Keith couldn’t bear to think about the others. Any prompting on their part would just fuel the fire.

“What the hell was that, man?”

And there was the gasoline.

“I’ll see you all at lunch. I’m done for now,” called the red pilot back towards Lance, who was so quick to call him out. He had a talent for opening his mouth at the worst times.

“No, man, you’ve been in a sour mood for days now.”

Keith gritted his teeth, the view from his cockpit showing a certain Blue Lion sliding in front of his own. It took every last bit of self control he had to keep from simply swiping the machine to the side and continuing on. He wanted to be left alone for once without commentary from the peanut gallery. Was that so much to ask for?

The Blue Paladin spoke again, “What’s your problem?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Lance. This training from Hell, maybe? The fact we can’t seem to form Voltron again? A lack of peace and quiet? I’m exhausted.”

“As if you’re the only one.”

The more Lance blabbed on, the less Keith could take. He wasn’t in the mood for teamwork, let alone an argument from the one person on their team who seemed hellbent on annoying the lot of them. How rich to hear criticism from him. Without any more quips to give back, he turned his Lion skywards and jumped over the blockade, all communications disabled to the weapon. Sure, if the two of them got into a tussle, at least he wouldn’t have to listen to the screaming and whining that came with it when Lance was turned upside down on his ass.

Much to his relief, no other protest followed and he was allowed to roam back to base in peace.

* * *

“Where is Keith?”

Allura searched over the dining table, noticing one of the team was missing in action. She grew disappointed with the looks on everyone’s faces, seeing Hunk supplying himself with a hearty portion of goo with a shrug and a defeated expression on Pidge’s delicate features as she stirred hers around in a lazy circle. Shiro could only shake his head softly, lips drawn thin. 

“None of us have seen him since this morning,” he answered. “I tried talking to him, but he wouldn’t come out of his room.”

The princess furrowed her brow and idly rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “I heard him earlier during training. I was about to go track him down myself but…”

She sighed and seated herself down at the head of the table. “He’s been acting strangely lately. Blowing up at nothing and disappearing right after training sessions are done. I’ve hardly even seen him eat…”

“Let him throw a tantrum.”

All eyes turned to Lance, sitting at the far end and poking the green slop in his bowl. He could feel their gazes boring into him, but he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeming cornered. Besides, he actually was pretty annoyed. The young man couldn’t bear to muster up even the smallest iota of his good nature to cover up the sour look on his face. “If he wants to be a big baby, then let him go sulk by himself,” he said.

“You’re not helping matters, Lance,” said Allura, her palms both firmly on the table as her voice changed from concern to scolding. “Yes, our teamwork in general can use improvement but don’t think I haven’t noticed you two in particular. You antagonize him for every little thing.”

Lance smirked. “Because he makes it so easy. Guy’s always on edge. How can I not pick on him sometimes?”

_“Lance!”_

The boy cowered properly, finally looking up to see the Altean’s eyes glowing a burning blue with anger. He’d annoy the absolute piss out of everyone here for fun, sure, but even he knew better than to mess with her temper. He held up his hands, hoping to deescalate what he’d clearly started. An uneasy smile adorned his face but his eyes screamed in absolute terror at whatever retribution was waiting on her tongue. 

“H-Hey, I was just—“

“No, you aren’t “kidding” if that is what you were going to tell me next! Maybe Voltron cannot form again because you—“

Her impending tirade was cut short by a loud, booming voice breaking out into song from across the room. At first, it was listenable, if off key, but then culminated into a falsetto that clearly couldn’t be reached by the singer. In danced Coran seconds later, tiptoeing delicately and spinning into a humble bow before breathing in deeply, the walls groaning after the echo of his high notes bounced from them. “Now that I have your attention…”

Coran chose not to sit down and instead stood overlooking their group, smiling but his brows dipping in a hint of sadness. He could hear them yelling from down the hall and as soon as Allura’s voice joined in, he knew he had to soothe moods somehow. It was just too bad it wasn’t an appropriate time to teach them all a folk song or two. Maybe for dinner.

“Now, I didn’t catch wind of everything but Princess, I know I can advise you on this: fighting with your Paladins will not help anything. And you all.” 

Turning to the kids still sitting awkwardly at the table, he frowned sternly. If he had to be the disapproving father figure, then he was going to give it his all. “Fighting amongst yourselves also won’t solve problems.”

“It’s not even all of us fighting,” commented Pidge. “It’s just Lance.”

“Now now, that isn’t true.”

Lance’s smile grew ear to ear as he gestured towards Coran with approval, mouthing a silent “thank you.” At least one person here understood him. Honestly, he was feeling so attacked until now. His arms immediately felt back onto the table in disbelief once he heard the royal advisor’s reply.

“… It’s both Keith _and_ Lance, in fact. I’ve been doing my own observations and I can conclude most of our weaknesses can be attributed to the Blue and Red Lion. In the heat of battle, everyone gets along just fine but we can’t always rely on that. You Paladins must be able to form Voltron no matter the situation, and that’s just not possible at the moment. Weakest link in the chain and all that.”

Lance crossed his arms, pouting childishly. So he could admit he had some things to work on but to be compared to Keith? Bottom of the chain or whatever with him? There was no way. He was a fantastic pilot, a great shot with a laser beam, not to mention devilishly handsome. At least he didn’t have a bad attitude. He rather liked his team, actually. He liked being around them. Just who was it here that was refusing to eat at the breakfast table with everyone else?

“What am I doing that’s as bad as Keith?” he asked with another pout. “This can’t be because I give him hell sometimes. I distribute my hell evenly amongst all of us, thank you.”

Coran’s nose wrinkled, his mustache flaring. “If you want the truth then you, Lance, are loud, brash, and very sure of yourself to the point of cockiness. But Keith is very… temperamental, is the best way to put it. Almost as impulsive and certainly not a natural-born team player. And when the two of you butt heads, well… Then you see the problem. Not to say everyone else here doesn’t have their faults, but you could say… We’re being cost an arm and a leg?”

Coran slapped the table a few times and laughed to himself, not noticing everyone giving one another raised eyebrows as the joke fell flat (save for Hunk, who was hiding his amusement behind a mouthful of food goo). Allura simple rolled her eyes before forcing a couple of coughs to garner her advisor’s attention. “Then what do you suggest we do?” she asked. “If training together every day hasn’t brought them together as teammates, what other options are there?”

“I’m glad you asked, Princess, for I’ve just thought of something. It might seem extreme but desperate times call for desperate measures, do they not? I’m of the opinion their normal training won’t work for them because it’s simply getting them worked up. The stress from trying to merge the Lions and being in a situation where they’re actively fighting and shooting isn’t the best environment. Gets the blood pumping too much.”

He clapped his hands together, a genuine toothy grin appearing underneath the mustache. “So they must go domestic!”

Lance blinked in confusion, his lips moving from a pout into a grimace as the possible ramifications settled in. This couldn’t have been good. He didn’t trust that gentlemanly smile on the Altean’s lips.

“…Domestic?”

“Yes! Think of yourselves as ordinary soldiers instead of fated Paladins for a moment.” The advisor began to waltz around their dining table, a thoughtful hand waving around in the air as he talked. “Soldiers live in close quarters. They share bedrooms and bathrooms. And think back to your Earth history. During wars of the very, very distant past, they had to live in trenches and desert wastelands while surviving both the elements and the enemy. Really serves to bring strangers closer together.”

His gut instinct was right. If Coran was insinuating what Lance thought he was, then he was about to lose everything— privacy, quiet, the ability to even just crack a joke without someone getting offended. They couldn’t possibly think this was a good idea. The blue pilot felt betrayed in that moment. He thought the Altean man understood him in a way the others couldn’t. And yet here he was trying to force what was never going to happen.

“Makes sense to me,” said Hunk, finally finding it safe to comment. “Maybe you guys just need to like, talk to each other instead of yelling. That’s usually better.”

Lance turned to Shiro, desperate for their de facto team leader to shoot down the idea. His heart sank when the answer he received was not the one he wanted. 

“It’s worth a shot. It might also coax Keith out of his shell. Really, that’d benefit all of us if it works.”

“Then why don’t _you_ do it?! Why me?!”

This was a mistake. Seriously, why him? Yes, Keith hated Lance’s guts so the obvious choice to make friends was him. Not to mention he hated this plan. Hated it, and he considered himself an easygoing guy. He knew trying to beg Allura to talk some sense into their crew would fall on deaf ears, so instead of hanging around to be humiliated further, Lance shoved himself away from his half-eaten dinner. For once, he’d pull a Keith and just be done. He deserved that much. It’d kill him to hear that sweet voice of hers agree with Coran anyway.

For the rest of the night, he remained undisturbed. He took in the sights of his room one last time, knowing they’d surely kick him out tomorrow. But for now, he could jump on his bed and ruffle the sheets in that way he liked. Unkempt, unmade— perfect. Always available to crawl into at the end of a long day, his legs outstretched and clad in nothing but boxers to snooze in. It was the dream of every man in the universe. 

There’d be no more singing in the shower every morning, belting out whatever Spanish tune he could remember and using the shower head as a makeshift microphone. No more scratching himself whenever and wherever either. Or waking up super late every day or sneaking out for midnight food goo runs when he couldn’t sleep. Keith would probably complain about indecency or something stupid. He’d have to be discreet about certain other activities too. But even then, would he be left alone to do it? Lance could just see it now: he’d be getting close and then a fervent banging on the door would ruin the entire mood. It reminded him of being back at home on Earth, though not in the good way.

Lance shoved his pillow over his head, his thoughts growing too depressing to think about anymore. Great, now he was homesick again to boot.

_Just go to sleep… Stop overthinking it. Maybe it won’t be so bad. It’s not like Keith is gonna love this either._

Mixed into his jumbled thoughts was the inkling of a plan. Faking it till he made it— Lance could do that, right? Give everyone the impression that the two of them got along so the Alteans would get off of their backs. A long shot, he could admit, but easier than trying to befriend the hotheaded Red Lion. Yeah, it’d just take some acting, a little trial and error. They didn’t need to actually be best friends to get out of this mess. He was sure Keith would strike a deal like that with him if he sold it well enough. If they could agree on anything in the galaxy, it was the quickest solution to get out of one another's hair.

Filled with a new resolve before sleep overtook him, Lance made a vow to himself. He’d be back in this sweet, sweet room by the end of the week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is kind of an AU, I guess? It's like... an alternate solution for when they had trouble forming Voltron lol. It doesn't need to make sense, it's gonna be smut and that's what you're all here for in the end, you dirty, dirty sinners. 
> 
> Also, this is the first fic I've written since like... God, 2008? I was in my junior year of high school, I know that much, and that old shame of mine will stay buried HAHA. This is a weird trip down memory lane, in a way. But yes, I might actually commit to finishing this story, unlike all of my other fics of the past. I guess we'll see~
> 
> I don't have a beta so please forgive/inform me of mistakes. Autocorrect really didn't like Allura's name lol


	2. Pride Before the Fall

A rude awakening greeted Lance the next day as an irritatingly chipper Coran flipped on the lights and roused him from sleep. The pilot rubbed at his eyes before tossing his sheets back over his face to shield himself.

“I was gonna get up… I swear…”

“Oh, I’m sure you were but I need you. Come on, up and at ‘em!”

It was much too early to deal with this. Lance sighed heavily before reluctantly pulling on a pair of pants to hide his shame. He scratched his chin for a moment before it occurred to him that he wasn’t being dragged out of bed for training. A nice gesture, but one that had to come with a price.

“…So what’re you doing in here?”

“Helping you move, of course! You’ll be switching to a different room today. No morning session today, though the other Paladins will be doing their usual training while you get settled.”

“Oh. Right.”

“You’ll be moving down the hall into a bigger area. I figured the rooms given to you already would be too cramped for two. Though if I wanted to, I could’ve arranged that. Maybe if this exercise isn’t showing results, then that’ll be a punishment, hmm? A little incentive for the both of you never hurt.”

He sighed again. Of course. Arguing now when he still had one foot in dream land wouldn’t change the course of what was going to happen. Lance thought he’d accepted it last night. But as he shoved the toiletries from the bathroom sink into a box, he still couldn’t believe it. It was like the world’s worst sleepover. Memories of his mother forcefully making him attend the parties of unpopular kids while he was in school flooded back in waves. He could’ve done without that as well, or else otherwise treasured remembrances of his Mama’s sweet, soft voice would be tainted by the current bad situation. The Blue Lion's pilot would be damned to let Keith ruin her like that.

One box at a time, though there weren’t many, Lance made his way back and forth down the hall to deliver his belongings. Keith had already made his mark on their new room, with his things arranged in an orderly but disheveled fashion on the right half. Meanwhile, Lance hastily threw his sheets and pillow onto the leftover bed, annoyed that he didn’t get first pick. It was petty, but any consolation would’ve been welcome, like being the kid who got to claim top bunk. Though he supposed he had one comfort to hold onto, with the red pilot being nowhere in sight.

“There we are!” exclaimed Coran as he gently set down the last of it. “I’d suggest you get dressed properly and meet me downstairs in the kitchen. You and Keith have a few things to discuss.”

Today was apparently nothing but lectures. Lance almost missed training, as miserable as it could be. Despite the futility of trying to merge Voltron, at the very least the Blue Lion felt as close to home as possible. It was anything but quiet, and being inside the cockpit meant danger wasn’t too far from his mind. After all, it was a weapon, with him as its mere guide. A construction of unimaginable power, but it felt so familiar. Lance could hear it speaking to him every now and then, commanding yet gentle. There was no need to be afraid of it, though it was capable of so much destruction. Sometimes, even just sitting in it was enough to calm him. If only it weren’t against his moral code to simply take the Beast and fly home through the depths of space.

Once fully clothed and fully awake, Lance made the lonely journey down to the dining table where a disgruntled Keith awaited him. They locked eyes for a moment before the blue pilot sat down at the furthest seat away. An uneasy silence followed, with neither wanting to be the first dam to break. As awkward as it was, they were too stubborn to do anything about it— a fact that was painfully obvious as Keith cracked his knuckles over and over while Lance did his usual pout and kicked up a leg onto the table. It wasn’t until Coran, along with Allura beside him, arrived that they could finally focus on something that wasn’t the overwhelming lack of civility.

“Good! You’re both here! Lance, get your foot off of the place where we eat! But yes, come on now, sit a little closer together. You can’t start off like this. Make it count!”

The two boys grumbled, with Lance ultimately being the one to make the move. He picked a chair across from the lone wolf. Still they didn’t meet eye to eye. Allura scoffed as she observed the staggering amount of pride between them. Was this some kind of Earth male thing that she couldn’t hope to understand?

“Really? Is this how it’s going to be?” she asked, a hand on her chest. “Have you even told one another good morning yet?”

“Nnnnnope,” said Lance, so matter-of-factly. Like he didn’t care (which he didn’t and no amount of pressure would ever make him).

“You know, it’s that attitude that got us all into this situation.”

“Hey! It takes two to tango. _I’m_ not the only one sitting here!”

Keith shot him a nasty look before sighing. He’d had so much time yesterday to think, not so much about this but about anything crossing his mind. And yet even with the hours spent alone in his quiet room, he couldn’t pin down what was bothering him. Frustration, yes, but over what? Home? That little shack in a barren wasteland? It was a roof and nothing more. The stress of becoming part of a war? Well, he’d already known that was a possibility from the day he joined the Galaxy Garrison. But maybe doing so while piloting a coveted spacecraft wanted by an evil empire was the reason. Or being stuck in a castle with the single most irritating man in the Milky Way, soon to be rooming with him like they were supposed to be college buddies.

It didn’t help that Keith had grown to accept their punishment, as much as he could anyway. He didn’t like the idea one bit. He practically had to be cornered by Coran until agreeing. His privacy wouldn’t be coming back for a long time yet. Even after confiding (i.e. complaining) to Shiro, the most reasonable of their team, it seemed he was outnumbered by authority. _Everyone_ was against him— and Lance, for that matter. Keith wouldn’t dare think of this as a plot to solely and slowly torture just him. He could at least rest easy knowing his teammates were doing it out of the kindness of their hearts. And really, the end goal to form Voltron was of the highest priority. Keith was frustrated knowing he was part of the problem, literally a fifth of a missing piece to a whole. But his one solace? He _knew_ Lance was taking it all as a personal attack and that warmed his heart, mostly from the laughing.

Lance was quick to pick up on the smile that formed on the Red Paladin’s mouth, automatically going into accusatory mode as he pointed a rude finger at the culprit. “See? _See?!_ That right there! He’s already making fun of me! He’s not even taking it seriously!”

“Hush, nobody’s making fun of anyone,” said Allura, already clearly done with their collective attitudes. Honestly, they were fated Paladins and yet she felt like she was playing babysitter. “Now we’re going to act like proper warriors and have an adult discussion about things. Mainly about how you two will be operating until further notice. It’s important that you two stop bickering and pay attention, unless you want to share that room forever.”

“Princess, don’t scare them!”

Coran flicked his hand, fingers coming up to meet the bristled hair of his mustache. His demeanor was stern, posture upright and at attention, but he kept a calm air about himself. It was the time to be firm, but not frightening. It was easy to forget they were growing teens sometimes, especially teen Earthlings who were far from home. “To begin, I don’t want this to be seen as a punishment. I’d ask that all of you, including you, Princess, change your views on that before we officially kick things off. It does no one any good to be so harsh on not only each other but themselves as well.”

For once, Keith and Lance could agree on something as they scoffed in unison. Being flexible on mindsets was a good idea. Change made people grow, as did challenging biases. It was also welcome to be given a little slack when everyone expected so much of them. But the very word “punishment” had been brought up just earlier this morning. What had the Altean man called it? Incentive? An already sour atmosphere only grew more so with the first sentence. A great omen for what was to come, despite the pretty words that tried to cover up the reality of their situation.

“It might seem unfair to single you out but this is as much an exercise as it is an experiment. And it’s not like we haven’t tried various things as a team up until now. The trust dive, the psychic bonding… Oh, and those scandalous cuffs we put on you at dinner. That was… fun to witness. And if it comes down to it, there might be a need to have the others do something like this but for now, we need our arm and leg to get along, or else we’re just hopping around blindly on one foot. Err, there’s a metaphor in there somewhere.”

Coran’s hand moved under the table, the clicking of buttons filling the tense air before a holographic display fanned out in strands of neon green light from the center. When it settled into a form, an itinerary floated above them, neatly arranged and organized into bullet points and boxes. If only it wasn’t in Altean script and completely illegible to the two young men who stared up at it with blank faces.

Lance gestured lazily, unimpressed by the sight. “So I’m hoping you’ll read it to us because uhh…”

“Of course! A little patience, please! Anyway, here we have our tentative schedule, arranged by Princess Allura and myself. Honestly, I’m kind of giddy about revealing it to you. It’s like a surprise the entire way through since you can’t read it. Though I’m not sure if I’ll tell you everything on the list just yet. But, uh, yes… We’ll be incorporating a few familiar exercises you’ve done, but with a personal twist to each.”

The advisor paused, his eyes closed and brows furrowed before a beaming smile lit up his face. “Actually, I won’t tell you more than that. Yes! Perfect! You two, eat some breakfast and then get your suits on. Meet me in the training deck when you’re finished and try not to keep me waiting for more than a few ticks, hmm?”

Even Allura couldn’t help but become worried by the uncertainty— and she could clearly read the hologram that flashed out of existence as she left the room. They’d discussed every detail the night before, confident that their plan to bring this ragtag group together to form the universe’s greatest weapon would finally work. However, something seemed different now. Did Coran have something else up his sleeve that he hadn’t told her about? He was awfully jovial over what the princess viewed as a monumental load of work that loomed over them like the spires of Castle Lion. Would she have to juggle the men and her own advisor as well? The castle’s defenses could protect them from the might of the Galra Empire, but from its protectors, she wasn’t so sure. She’d simply have to keep a close eye on how events unfolded.

Meanwhile, Lance and Keith found themselves walking back to their new quarters together, footsteps slowly hastening as they realized the other was trying to outrun them. The fact they were awoken so rudely and forced downstairs, only to be told nothing new, was already frustrating but this casual morning jog? Infuriating. With the door in sight, Lance bolted at top speed and made it inside first, shutting it behind him with a shit-eating grin and disabling the open function. The banging of fists on cold metal was like music to his ears. Finally, this arrangement was good for some laughs.

“What the hell, Lance?!” 

“That’s not the password. Try again.”

“I swear, I’ll kill you before training even starts!”

“Nope, still not it.”

Wasn’t there a plan he’d hatched last night about striking a deal with Keith? Something about faking it till they made it? How ridiculous. As if Lance would ever think of an idea so stupid. This was _much_ more entertaining, consequences be damned. He left the other pilot to hopelessly claw at the door until it occurred to him on how he’d get out of here without being beaten to a pulp. With caution, he released the lock and was immediately met with a furious Keith grabbing at the collar of his shirt and roughly thrusting him into the threshold of the door. Any ounce of fight Lance normally would’ve had drained as he realized he’d gone too far.

“I don’t like this any more than you do,” breathed Keith, his temper flaring behind his eyes and aching to be taken out in full on the Blue Paladin. “But one misstep— just _one_ — and I won’t hesitate to bring you down. I don’t care if it ruins any progress. I’m not in the mood for your jokes. Everything is your fault anyway so you could at least shut up for a few days and make things easy.”

It wasn’t wise to tangle with another Lion, especially one who was just as temperamental as the Beast itself. And yes, Lance was completely scared out of his wits at the moment. He talked a big game, but even he wasn’t so clueless as to believe he’d last longer than five seconds in a brawl. His beautiful face would never survive. But even then, the stubbornness in him bubbled up to the surface as he grabbed at the balled fist currently suspending him above the floor and dug in his nails.

“My fault? I’m not the one taking out his anger on everyone else. I’m trying to be friendly and at least _I_ show up to practice so we can do what needs to be done. You rag on my piloting skills constantly but who’s here at the bottom of the barrel with me right now? Not Hunk or Pidge or Shiro. It’s _you._ You’ve been treating everyone like shit lately and if I have to beat that out of you, I will. I’m not letting you bring my friends down to your level.” 

Yesterday, Lance could honestly say he had some sympathy for Keith. He didn’t have a single clue as to what was ailing his comrade, but that didn’t matter. Something was clearly bothering him. Hell, everyone on Team Voltron had personal issues to sort through in addition to being thrust into the role of heroes so suddenly. It was as simple as trying to put himself in others’ shoes for a day. Any such feelings of concern for Keith were instantly washed away, even as said pilot finally loosened his death grip and angrily stomped away to change without another word. 

_He could at least have the decency to cover up his anger with something else…_

Lance chose to take his costume into an unused room elsewhere in the castle to suit up in peace. If he saw Keith again before their training, he would literally explode. But if that opportunity was missed, it was just fine. Going to the training deck meant he could have an outlet for their unpleasant meeting. Tons of robots to blow up and lots of gloating to be had for setting new records. Allura and Coran would be so proud watching him as he performed. Piloting the Blue Lion was a different matter, completely out of his element. But if he was given the chance to do some sharp shooting with his Bayard? He could already imagine himself bathing in the glory of a job well done.

“These observations are just based on the short time we’ve known one another but I’ve noticed distinct fighting styles between all five of you,” began Coran after the two made their way to the meeting point (standing as far apart as they could, of course). By now, Lance was impressed with how long the advisor could prattle on and on. Between the multiple lectures, it was a miracle tongues hadn’t accidentally been maimed in the process. It made Lance’s jaw hurt just to listen. 

“With you two, we have ranged and melee to work with. So we’re going to combine these for some choice teamwork. We’ll start with this: the two of you will stand in the center of the deck with your Bayards. However, Lance will not be allowed to move from his location, but Keith will. Lance, you’ll be covering Keith form flying units with your rifle while he protects you from ground units with his sword. This will require a great deal of trust, for obvious reasons, or else you’ll be quickly overrun on all sides. It’s about having one another’s backs. In theory, you could run around as much as you want, Lance, but that'd defeat the purpose, wouldn't it? I'm sure I don't have to explain to you how a good defense and offense is essential, especially in regards to the Lions. I trust you boys will get the hang of it. Understood?”

Lance gripped his Bayard, smugly holding the gun as it materialized. _Easy. I don’t even need him if I blast everything myself._

His joy waned upon glancing at Keith, who could only sigh and murmur a “got it” before moving forward. Forever the strong, silent type, but maybe because he didn’t want to be scolded for arguing.

With the princess and her advisor observing with bated breath from the control room, the first few drones- small, circular machines bathed in chrome- descended upon them from every corner of the room and Lance’s smirk returned. They weren’t even making themselves difficult targets to snipe. Keith held his ground, remembering what he was told about being the defense in this exercise. It was simple to just run up there and swipe the enemy, but that wasn’t what this was about. No, for once he’d hold his temper and remain vigilant. Besides, it’d be just his luck to leave position and have Lance be wide open for assault. So at first it didn’t bother him to see beams of energy surge from behind and effortlessly destroy the drones one by one. Keith had to admit the Blue Lion wasn’t a bad shot, even if everything else about his piloting (and personality) was awful.

But it wasn’t long before his mood took a turn south. Different drones appeared alongside the airborne units after a moment— ground-based mechanisms that zoomed across the floor with screaming wheels. Keith’s time to shine… only it wasn’t. He dashed to meet the army head on, only to skid to a stop when the drones were fried right before his feet, the bursts of heat and air hitting his face. However, he held his tongue. Okay, so he hadn’t gotten to them first. Big deal. Another wave was fast approaching anyway and he firmly gripped his Bayard in anticipation. He barely had the time to raise the weapon before those too were eviscerated in the blink of an eye.

He spun around, a twitch in his brow. “You mind letting me have a few?”

His question was answered with a couple of stray shots at nothing. A declaration of war as far as Keith was concerned, and so he firmly abandoned Lance’s side to charge ahead alone. The young man didn’t dare look up to see what was sure to be the disapproving glares of the Alteans above. But if his supposed teammate didn’t want to work with him, then why put in the effort? This was a contest now, and he wasn’t about to lose without a fight. Besides, so long as they finished the task, that was what mattered.

Drones poured in, almost unable to replenish their ranks as they were shot and cut down as soon as they were spotted. Eventually, it became an unspoken vow to split the deck evenly— Lance taking everything on the left and Keith on the right. Through heavy breathing they counted the scrapped metal: one, two, ten, twenty. Keith could especially feel the burn, his sweaty bangs threatening to obscure his vision with every uppercut and low sweep of his Bayard. His arms and thighs begged for reprieve, writhing from the overuse. However, he couldn’t hear their pleas. His blood was pumping, hot and molten with adrenaline. He’d never felt better and the rage from before had completely melted away. His blade only needed one pass for each drone before they shredded into bolts. The moment was his and his alone.

_Nothing can stop me._

In that moment, his muscles failed him for a second and the Bayard fell from Keith’s hand. The resulting _clang_ was enough to warrant Lance’s attention. The Blue Paladin ceased fire, turning around almost in slow motion to see the half of the room behind him was under siege. Just what the hell were Allura and Coran thinking letting so many out at the same time, and how had he not paid attention to it until now?

“Hey, stop the drones! There’s too many!” he yelled, shooting fervently while running as fast as he could. 

His shots became sloppy but it didn’t matter. He was helpless from so far away, just able to watch as Keith grappled for his sword but instead collapsed to his knees as the exhaustion set in. That idiot had overdone it. Lance would’ve joked about being the knight in shining armor here to rescue the damsel in distress, if he wasn’t so scared about actually getting eaten alive by machines himself as he ran to join his fallen compatriot.

“I got it!”

Arms shaking, Keith managed to rise up to meet his eyes. The fire still burned within, though it was quickly snuffing itself out. “I got this,” he said again.

“What’re you saying?! Put up your shield!”

Lance obviously ignored him, not fooled by the weak attempt at bravado. Keith’s demands were stupid and he was just being hot-headed as usual. Even if they were close to punching one another senseless at any other time of the day, he wouldn’t leave the other hanging on by a thread. There was still time to salvage this mess as a duo if he could give them some breathing room. With another wave of drones barreling down on them, he fired again and again, accuracy and grace all but gone. Each shot was erratic, a final hope that they could crawl out of this mess in tact. 

He paused for a moment to stoop down once at his partner’s side, offering a free hand to the Red Paladin. “C’mon, we can still make it!”

Keith, through damp hair and eyes veiled by light-headedness, smacked away the temporary truce before hoisting his Bayard over his shoulder. He stepped away, desperate to create distance from his would-be savior.

_“I said back off! I don’t need your help!”_

Perhaps it was the sheer fatigue that was making him act uncooperative when he knew deep down, he desperately needed it. Or maybe pride, or the fact Keith was still feeling resentment from the little joke from this morning. A petty thing, but indicative of a larger, long-standing problem. Lance’s face alone was enough to make Keith’s blood boil. There’s no way he’d let himself be seen as lesser, as weaker, than someone who should’ve never been given the privilege of piloting the Blue Lion. A person who did nothing but idle and create hurdles for everyone at every turn— how was he ever considered worthy?

Keith’s blade seemed so heavy now, taking every last ounce of strength he could muster to swing it at anything in his path. The ground units swarmed about his feet and forced him to kick back in retaliation. He couldn’t focus on both them and the airborne drones whizzing by his face in the blink of an eye. But still he persevered on, the count of enemies destroyed ticking upwards in his mind. Finally, there was a clear number of drones left, a tangible amount that could be accounted for. They were making it to the end. Soon, only a handful remained, half flying and half running along the floor.

Lance’s fingers cramped, as did his arms from holding the rifle for so long. A new burst of resolve fueled him as there was but a single unit left. He had this. A last shot and he could sprawl out on the ground and sleep forever as a reward.

But the Paladin miscalculated. He and Keith had mentally claimed the same target, but Lance’s trigger happy finger fired first. He screamed and reached out in vain, not even hearing himself over the din of his Bayard slipping from his hands. The beam of energy struck, but not on its intended mark. An unaware Keith felt his breath being sapped from his lungs as he was hit square on the center of his lower back— at first a solid blow that felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to him until the burning settled in seconds later.

Words abandoned Lance. There was nothing to say. He’d been so careless to shoot erratically like that instead of trusting in his partner. But Keith didn’t even _want_ to cooperate and he’d run off alone, exactly against what the exercise required. It was always like this. Keith always had to be the lone wolf, headstrong and independent when there was more than just himself. _Exactly_ what Lance pointed out every time. Hoist by his own petard was the old saying, wasn't it? This was just another example of that yet again.

No. The same factor was there in the end, here and in every other occasion where something had failed.

It was always Lance's fault.

* * *

He wasn’t there to view Keith’s eventual fate. It was all a blur, and even as he sat in his bed later trying to remember what went wrong, voices were muffled, the lights too blinding to see. His brain almost seemed like it was blocking the memory intentionally as much as possible. The images of Keith lying on the floor, moving but groaning and struggling to make sense of why he now writhed in pain played over and over, refusing to be forgotten. Coran and Allura had been the ones to take the pilot to the infirmary. Had Lance helped escort the body? Maybe. It would’ve been awful of him to not help. Incredibly unlike him. But anything that'd happened since training was like a blank slate. He vaguely recalled Keith being able to walk, at the very least. However, that did little to quell his current state of mind.

_"Go get the others! Tell them!”_

He hadn’t done that. Immediately after leaving the deck, Lance had escaped to his room and hid. He was ashamed, afraid of what they’d do if they knew. He couldn’t possibly tell them. And the fact the boy couldn’t bear to see how much damage he caused only made the self loathing worse. 

_If I hadn’t been so cocky… Thinking I could do it myself… Why couldn’t I just follow the damn exercise and listen?! Why did I do that?! Keith was gonna work with me until I… Even after I made things so difficult for him..._

How much did a Bayard hurt? Could it burn through clothing, skin, bone? Did Castle Lion have the technology to heal something critical? Lance was surprised nobody had come to get him for one reason or another. They were all probably waiting in the infirmary with baited breath at the moment, despite how late it was. Either way, the doors to the room were locked. If he could help it, he would stay in here and rot rather than muster up the courage to face the team.

Sleep came slowly, kicking and screaming until it finally won over the guilt that plagued him. Lance was secretly grateful to be left alone that night, as there wasn’t a soul around to listen to his quiet sobbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the length of this one got away from me, but I couldn't stop adding things hehehe. It kind of revealed to me that this story is going in a different direction than I anticipated, but hey, isn't that how it always goes? I don't do well with doing big drafts before jumping into a project, so I guess it works out better for me in the long run. That, and writing hasn't come to me easily as of late. I wanted to get this chapter out before too long. It takes the pressure off of my shoulders to have at least one thing knocked off of my to-do list for a while, ya know?
> 
> As always, inform me of mistakes and other things I can edit. Word loves putting Coran as "Corn" about as much as it loves making Allura "Allure."


End file.
